Whalesong
by Miss Ruby Tuesday
Summary: A Sparrabeth oneshot, set in a hazy time period. Might be during DMC, might not. Ergo, no real spoilers. Summary summarily butchered by author in an attempt to describe it without saying too much.


_Sure I own it. I also have a very lovely bridge in Brooklyn that I am willing to let go for a song._

In hindsight, she's surprised it didn't happen sooner. She's been teasing him for weeks: her lips against his neck as she peers over the maps with him, the press of her bottom flush against him as he teaches her to steer the Pearl, her breasts in his face as she demands to know where they're headed when he's seated at his desk. Mother of God, she even presses shamelessly against him in the night as they share his berth. (Will need'nt know. After all, she justifies, it is the safest place for her to sleep on the ship.) His eyes have gone from leather brown to obsidian when she stands near, now and she's learned to love the subtle flare of his nostrils when she's incited him. For the first time she knows of, Elizabeth holds all the power and it feels wickedly good.

It all ends, one night when she brushes past him, her shirt dangerously open, and he seizes her arm.

"Your sire named you ill when he named you for a saint, Lizzie. You'll be the death of me yet." His voice is hoarse, gravelly, and in her naivety, she can't tell if it's anger or lust tinging his tones. Either way, she goes hot and cold all over, as though she's feverish. It's a new feeling for her, like being drunk for the first time.

"I'll thank you to let me go," she hisses, leaning in so close that she can feel his hot breath moistening her lips. "...Captain."

He groans the same way his ship does during a storm before he slams her up against the door of his cabin. One of the crew looks up, but quickly goes back to minding his own business. Everyone's aware of the game they're playing, they're just taking bets on who will burn first. Someone may stand to win a lot of money tonight.

His rough, bejeweled hand is pressed against her throat, holding her under her jawbone, forcing her to look at him. His eyes glitter like the ocean and he is panting against her. He presses himself tightly to her.

"Stop toying with me, woman, unless this is what you really want. I'm human too, Liz'beth. I can only take so much of this." His other hand slides down her back, caressing her bottom, and making its way under her thigh. He wrenches it up and rocks against her until she's biting back gasps. Then, he's gone, leaving her to slump against the door, her whole body vibrating like a bowstring. All she can think of is that Will's fumblings have never, ever set her ablaze like this.

* * *

When she enters the cabin, Jack appears to be sleeping in his chair. A fresh coat of goosebumps cover her skin. She meanders over to him and nearly screams in shock when he grabs her hand. He's not rough this time, though. He strokes his delicate looking fingers over the back of her hand and she melts under his touch.

"Did you decide what you want, pet?" She smiles wickedly. She knows exactly how to get the reaction she wants and she will push him to his limits.

"Certainly not you, _Jack_." Before she can draw her next breath, he's out of his chair, arms around her, and sinking his teeth into her neck. There will a mark there for all the crew to see tomorrow and she doesn't care. Let them see it. She's tired of being Miss Elizabeth, anyway. He's backing her roughly against the hull of the ship nearest the windows. She can see the waves and the light of the moon as he tears open her shirt to get at her flesh. She feels as though she's about to be mauled by a shark.

Wait... Her shirt.

"Jack," her voice is deep and plaintive and full of lust. She doesn't recognize it.

"You'll have one of mine." He presses his lips to hers hard and fast. "Be quiet, Lizzie. Talking ruins it unless you're screaming my name."

She's gone when he says that. Her mind shuts down and she's nothing beyond base wants and needs. Her fingers claw at his back through the shirt as she tries to find purchase. He slinks one hand down, working the fastenings of her breeches, stripping her of the last vestiges of who she was before this moment. She buries her fingers in his hair and finds that she's rocking her hips against his hands in the same rhythm that the Pearl sways.

It's a heartbeat more before he's against her and in her, surging like a storm. She wonders for a split second if this is what the Pearl feels like when the sea takes her. He pulls her hips down against him and the thought disappears. He grunts into her neck, his sweat dripping over her nape, and again slides a hand under her knee to change the angle. It makes her eyes roll back in her head.

"Oh, fuck... _Jack!_" she cries hoarsely. Her head slams against the hull, making her see stars. He's rocking her harder now, mumbling her name into her neck, as he tangles his non-involved hand into her hair. She shatters just before he does, whispering his name like a prayer in the same breath he moans hers like a man dying. Then, for a moment, nothing.

He licks her damp neck, laughing. "I knew you'd come over to my side." She just smiles and rests her forehead against his, her arms still curled around the back of his neck, fingers stroking the beads and making them clink. His eyes are soft in the moonlight and she can see the laughlines around his eyes through the kohl.

"Your side has excellent benefits."

* * *

That night, she comes to bed naked. There's no point in hiding her body when he's already seen it. He's naked himself, but it's nothing new. He'd strutted around since she'd boarded, getting his jollies from watching her try to avert her eyes. Tonight, though, he strokes her hair before they sleep and is uncharacteristically quiet as he watches her.

"I don't regret it," she says.

"Wouldn't matter if you did. You can't take it back."

"I wouldn't." She kisses him like the spring rain, full of promise.

Still, he holds her a little tighter that night. She wakes up, halfway through the night because she thinks she hears him crying. He's asleep, though, his face buried in the back of her neck, wheezing just a little as he inhales against her. She tries to shift to give him space, but even asleep, his reaction is faster than hers. He snakes an arms between her breasts, holding her fast. She drifts back to sleep.

Jack dreams of sirens luring him to his demise with their beauty and their songs. He reaches the rocks to find that he no longer cares for his life. In his dream, he survives the rocks only to find that he's fallen in love with mermaid. He gives himself up to her and the ocean. He dreams that he becomes a shark, able to breathe the very water.

Elizabeth dreams of dolphins, of being a dolphin, dancing at the bow if the Pearl. In her dream, she twists and dances, diving against the foam, only to find herself face to face with a shark. She does not swim away, but instead they circle around each other warily. They swim through perfectly clear water, an odd pair. There are no rocks in her dreams, only the danger of a lone shark who leads her from her pod to the freedom of the open ocean.

Both awake at the same moment, gasping for air. The cabin reverberates with an odd keening and it takes Jack a moment to recognize it as whalesong.

"It's a good omen," he croons as he rocks her back to sleep.

* * *

_Author's Note: This piece was originally published on http/community. for distel. It also bears merit to say my beta has told me this is also her favourite piece. I'm still partial to Dervish, though._

_Review and an angel gets her wings. I just get my jollies._


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